The Batman Vignettes
by Silvey M
Summary: Da na na na na na na na Vignettes... Da na na na na na na na Vignettes, Vignettes!
1. Orange is the New Black

  
  
The Batman Vignettes  
by Silver Meteor  
  
_Since disclaimers on FF.net are now forbidden to be in the common chat-form, today's disclaimer is brought to you by the letter , in pure, prose form._  
  
Silver Meteor is seated at a table in a darkened room, shuffling a deck of cards. If I could be a super hero, I would be, Justice Guy, she sings under her breath. Making sure people get what they deserve, especially women who liiiiiiie. . .  
  
What are you doing? comes the deep, gravely voice from the darkness.  
  
Silver Meteor jumps a bit in her seat, and let's out a small Once she realizes that it was just Batman doing his sneaky-sneaky-stealth-bat thing, she calms down. Me? I was shuffling cards. While waiting for you to show up.  
  
Batman steps into the light, which happens to be coming from a bare light-bulb hanging over the table. What for? he asks suspiciously.  
  
Well, I could say the disclaimer that states that I, Silver Meteor, does not own Batman (that's you) or his animated series, the rights are not mine, etc., and that the idea for these vignettes came from Sarah Noble, whose Harry Potter Vignettes (staring Snape) are funnier than seeing Batman doing the hokey-pokey. Silver Meteor turns to look at Batman, and adds But it felt wrong getting started without you.  
  
How considerate.  
  
Well, next time you can say it then.  
  
Batman increases his glare. Can we get this over with?  
  
Silver Meteor nods violently, jumps out of her chair, and pulls out a laptop, seemingly from nowhere. YES WE CAN! CHAAAAAAARGE!   
  
BATMAN FEELS LIKE IT'S TIME FOR A CHANGE  
  
That's it! cried Batman, tearing off his cowl in frustration.  
  
Startled, Robin, the Boy Wonder, looked up from his crossword puzzle. What's up, Boss? he asked curiously.  
  
Batman, the Capped Crusader, turned toward Robin and pointed behind him, at the Batcave. How can you STAND this? he asked him.  
  
Um. . . said a confused Robin, . . . stand what?  
  
How can you stand the _absolute dreariness? _It's like all the cheer has been sucked out of you! _Who_ was in charge of decorating is what I'd like to know.  
  
Robin stared at Batman, dumbstruck.  
  
Batman turned away to face the rest of the cave. The lighting is HORRIBLE, the giant penny clashes with that dinosaur, there's dust EVERYWHERE, and who on earth needs a computer monitor this big? the Dark Knight said, counting on his fingers.   
  
Robin, terrified, began to edge toward the stairs that led out of the cave.  
  
Oblivious, Batman kept at it. And I mean, hasn't anyone ever heard of color scheme? It's all, Black black black!' Helloooo? Anyone who hasn't been living under a rock knows that _orange_ is the new _black_!  
  
Say, Robin? he said, turning towards his faithful sidekick.   
  
Robin froze, halfway from the stairs.  
  
Whataya say we take the rest of the night to redecorate? asked the Batman. I'm thinking, a pink and orange motif, with matching curtains.  
  
cried Robin, as he threw himself into one of the many pits of the Batcave to escape.  
  
Okay, the bottomless pits will be the first things to go, nodded Batman in agreement. 


	2. Another One Bites the Dust

BATMAN ABSOLUTELY DESPISES THE MUSIC GROUP QUEEN, BUT CAN'T FIND A WAY TO ESCAPE THEIR MUSIC  
  
Say Batman, can we listen to my new CD? asked Robin.  
  
Fine, fine, answered Batman. Just as long as it's not. . .  
  
_I paid my dues, time after time, I've done my sentence, but committed no crime. . .  
  
_Beneath his cowl, Batman paled. Oh, please no, he whispered.  
  
_We are the champions, my friends, and weeee'll keep on fighting, till the end, _sang the CD player. _We are the champions, we are the champions, no time for loooosers, cause we are the chaaampions. . .  
  
exclaimed Batman, snapping off the CD player in the Batmobile. Let's see what's on the radio instead, he suggested to Robin, switching it on.  
  
__I see a little silhouette of a man scadamoosh scadamoosh will you do the fandango—  
  
_That's enough of that, said Batman, as he pushed the off' button on the radio a little harder than necessary.  
  
Well, can I roll down the window? pouted Robin.  
  
Sure, sure, said Batman, desperate for anything but Queen.  
  
The ride continued in silence. Until. . .  
  
__ Robin stared singing, under his breath. _Pushing down on me, pressing down on you, da da da da. . .  
  
_Out, boy! barked Batman, as he brought the Batmobile to a screeching halt and pushed Robin out the window.  
  
Ha ha ha! he cried, as he speed away. Free, free at last. . . the Dark Knight whispered.  
  
Suddenly, the comlink between the Batmobile and the Wayne manor went off. Sir, something you should know, said Alfred.  
  
I'm listening, said Batman.   
  
There's a minor disturbance in a concert downtown, said Alfred in his calm, British butler way. In the Gothem Concert Hall—  
  
I'm on my way there, he said. Within minutes, he was on top of the Concert Hall's roof. He stealthily made his way inside, and noticed that beneath the screams and sounds of chaos, there came the sound of music playing. . .  
  
_. . . Are you ready, are you ready for this, are you hangin' on the edge of your seat. . .  
  
_ cried Batman, as he fled back out to the Concert Hall's roof, and through himself off of it.  
  
_And another one bites the dust,_ sang Queen merrily.


	3. He Really Hates That Guy

BATMAN PURSUES A RETREATING SUPERVILLAIN, ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT HE'S NOT A SUPERVILLAIN AT ALL  
  
Batman swooped along above the streets and alleyways (_Dang, this city has a lot of alleyways,_ he thought) of Gotham City, using his trusty Bat-inspired gadgets.   
  
He was in pursuit of supervillain, of the costumed variety. It appeared that this new, unfamiliar villain had superpowers, for he was swinging and swooping above the streets and numerous alleyways as deftly as Batman was; and perhaps, even more. Deftly.  
  
Batman swore under his breath; in order to keep up, he would soon have to use the Batmobile. But, seeing as he would be on the ground, there would be a greater chance that the villain could get away. Batman weighed the the pros and cons of the idea, only to lose sight of the costumed villain as he veered to the left, suddenly.  
  
Batman quickly redirected his Batarang, and in seconds he landed on the rooftop of one of the many industrial buildings in Gotham. His night-vision was sharp enough to detect the form of the retreating villain on the building across from his. Batman decided a stealth attack would have the best advantage here; just the fact that the villain had stopped indicated that he might have not seen Batman pursuing him. Either that, or he was new in town.  
  
Living up to his super-sneaky-stealthy reputation, Batman used his Batgear to cross the empty air to get to the edge of the roof where the villain had stopped. Sticking to the shadows like that annoying sticky stuff that never really comes off when you peel the stickers off your newly purchased CDs, Batman crept closer. . . and closer. . .  
  
Suddenly, the figure stood upright, and he turned around, and as his face was brought out of the shadows, Batman couldn't help but gasp in shock—  
  
—for standing in front of him was none other than—  
  
cried Batman.  
  
cried Spider-Man.  
  
There was complete silence for exactly three seconds.  
  
Spider-Man cleared his throat businesslike. Ahem. So, ah, it's been a while, huh? Uh. . . How are things going for you? You look good, buy the way.   
  
Batman grit his teeth. Oh, I'm fine. Thanks. Batman had always secretly resented the Web-Slinger. _I mean, think about it_, he had always thought, _why does _he_ get the hyphen, and I don't? Spider-Man. Not Spiderman. Batman. Not Bat-Man. _Sometimes life just wasn't fair. What are you doing here, by the way? he asked.  
  
Uh, well, I'm kinda lost, Spider-Man said, in an infuriating, hyphenated way. See, I'm supposed to be headed to my big movie premiere, the second one I've had, right?  
  
Dang, another reason to loath the man. His second movie was a blockbuster, just like the first one, and Batman hadn't had a movie since that one with ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER. The GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA. And no one, _absolutely no one,_ took an Astrian-Govenor-Body-Building Mr. Freeze seriously.  
  
But, I got sidetracked. . . continued Spider-Man with his fancy-shmancy hyphen.  
  
Spider-Man waited for the Dark Knight to ask about what had sidetracked him, but Batman did not rise to the bait. . . . sidetracked by Catwoman. he said, very quickly.  
  
Batman involuntarily clenched and unclenched his fists. Oh. . . really?  
  
Spider-Man chuckled. Yeah, she needed my help with. . . well, never mind, he said in a voice that suggested he was grinning under that stylish red mask of his. Well, I'll just be on my way, then.  
  
Yeah. You do that. Have a safe trip, Batman said to Spider-Man as he leapt from the building and swung into the night.   
  
GOODBYE FROM YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDER-MAN! he shouted, mostly to get attention from the people on the streets, who looked up and pointed in amazement as he swung from building to building.  
  
I really, really hate that guy, muttered Batman.  
  
[A/N: Yeah, I know, Spidaman's a Marvel guy. Don't own him. And Batman is DC. Don't own him either. GASP! I'm—I'm mixing them together! I've created an interdimentional warp hole! AHHH! I'M BEING SUCKED IN!!! GAHHHHH!]

[A/N numba 2: Just to throw it out, do you remember Sarah Noble, who wrote the hilarious Snape Vignettes and inspired me to write these ones? Well, she's just become a manga artist! THAT'S AWESOME!] 


	4. He's Not Smoking Anything!

BATMAN WANTS WAFFLES FOR BREAKFAST SO HE CAN CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY (BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IT'S AN AMERICAN TRADITION TO EAT WAFFLES ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, AND BY EVERYONE, WE MEAN NO ONE), BUT, ALAS, THE WAFFLER IS BROKEN, BECAUSE BATMAN ACCIDENTALLY BROKE IT WHEN HE TRIED TO MAKE WAFFLES YESTERDAY SO HE COULD EAT WAFFLES ON FREE COMIC BOOK DAY (WHICH REALLY IS JULY THE THIRD, SILVER METEOR SCORED TWO FREE COMIC BOOKS FROM HER LOCAL HASTINGS) BUT ENDED UP BURNING THE BATTER AND PUNCHING THE WAFFLER IN FRUSTRATION, AND A REPLACEMENT WAFFLER WAS NOT FOUND (BRUCE WAYNE EXPLAINS) BECAUSE FOR THE WANT OF A NAIL, THE SHOE WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE SHOE, THE HORSE WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF A HORSE, THE MESSENGER WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE MESSENGER, THE MESSAGE WAS LOST, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE MESSAGE, ALFRED WAS NOT INFORMED THAT THE WAFFLER WAS BROKEN AND DID NOT PURCHASE A NEW ONE, AND FOR THE WANT OF THE WAFFLER THE WAFFLES WERE LOST  
  
And to make a long story short, that's why we're not having waffles this morning, finished Bruce Wayne proudly.  
  
One question, said Dick Grayson, as he wearily lifted his head from the spot on the table where he had previously banging it, What the hell are you smoking, Bruce?  
  
No no, I'm high off of oxygen, Dick, answered Bruce Wayne cheerfully, syruping his Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which was substituting for the wanting waffles. Why do you ask?  
  
Tim Drake, in his caps-lock induced stupor, forgot to keep his head upright and it was sent headfirst into his bowl of Raisin Bran, splattering milk and deformed grapes everywhere.


	5. A Fun Filled Game Anyone Can Enjoy

BATGIRL HAS A REALIZATION  
  
said Batgirl one fine night. I've had a realization.  
  
Way to be redundant, said Robin, who was locked in a deeply competitive game of Connect Four with Nightwing.  
  
No, really, said Batgirl urgently.   
  
Well, what is it? asked Nightwing.  
  
All of the girls on this show, said Batgirl in a hollow voice, her face serious, are gymnasts.  
  
Robin and Nightwing looked at each other, then back at Batgirl. they asked at the same time.  
  
Think about it, continued Batgirl. Do research on any female costumed hero or villain, and at one point in their lives, you will see that they've been gymnasts.  
  
That can't be true, said Nightwing, placing a black plastic disc inside of a little slot to block the passage of three other red plastic discs. What about Harley Quinn? No, wait, she _was_ a gymnast. . . Catwoman?  
  
The body of a gymnast, replied Batgirl. Whether or not she ever was a gymnast, she's got the muscle tone and shape of one.  
  
That's not the same thing, protested Robin, stalling for time as he looked desperately for an opening.  
  
Hey, if you look like a gymnast, act like a gymnast, and can pull a double-backwards-handspring-with-a-twist like a gymnast, you're a gymnast, stated Batgirl.  
  
What about you, then?  
  
I was a gymnast before I even touched a Bat costume.  
  
Okay then, Miss Know-It-All, said Nightwing in a challenging voice. What about Poison Ivy? Or Talia al-Ghul?  
  
Robin dropped his red disc in the slot while Nightwing was distracted.  
  
Again, the body of a gymnast thing, Batgirl shot back.  
  
What about Spoiler? asked Robin.  
  
Batgirl raised an eyebrow. You of all people should know that she is defiantly a gymnast. Robin turned deep red. And anyway, she's not in the show.  
  
Hiya, Robin, waved Spoiler, who was indeed not in the Batman Animated Series and will not be in this fanfiction ever again.   
  
Nightwing triumphantly slipped his black plastic disc next to two other black discs, while Robin was distracted. So, what was the point of this discussion, anyway?  
  
The point is, said Batgirl, that this show is so demeaning towards women. If you're a woman and you want to be a villain or hero, you have to be a gymnast. You can't be a little pudgy, either. You have to be young, sexy, in perfect shape, and anything else you have isn't worth as much as how good you look in tights.  
  
Well, duh, said Nightwing.  
  
A few minutes later, while Batgirl was teaching Nightwing a few things about feminism (with her fists. . . and brass knuckles) Robin emptied the yellow plastic disc holder, got rid of a few of the black ones in strategic areas, placed all the other discs back. Raising his fist proudly, he slipped the final red plastic disc into the winning slot.   
  
Connect Four! Robin cried happily, as Nightwing lay on the ground, cringing in pain.


	6. This Actually Happened to Me, Not Really

BATMAN, EVER THE VIGILANT M. NIGHT SHYAMALAN MOVIE BUFF, GOES TO SEE _THE VILLAGE_ AND IS PLEASANTLY SURPRISED, BUT NOT IN THE WAY YOU THINK  
  
_Daggum, this place is crowded,_ Batman thought as he made his way down the isle of seats in the semi-dark theater. After chasing away a group of young children by throwing jujubes at them, he took a seat in the middle of the seventh row.  
  
Hey man, you're gonna take that off when the movie starts, right? asked a fat, chubby man sitting to his right in a greasy T-shirt and ball cap.  
  
Take what off? Batman asked, beginning to wonder if he should find another seat.  
  
In answer, the fat man pointed at his cowl. (Batman's cowl, not the Fatman.)  
  
(. . . . Da-na-na-na-na-na-na-na, Fatman, Fatman. . . .)  
  
I do hope, said Batman in a disdainful voice that was directed towards the girl at the computer keyboard, that you, the author, will continue this vignette as scripted, and kindly refrain from any impromptu writing, _please. _He gave the author a menacing glare, which was answered by a omnipresent raspberry, that seemed to come from all directions.  
  
And I don't appreciate that last remark, said Fatman. I'm big boned, is all.  
  
said Batman, picking up where he was interrupted, The fat guy asked me if I was going to take off my cowl in a pathetic attempt at what the author thinks of a humorous situation, and the obvious answer is No, you crazy, hygienically challenged fool, of course not.' And we leave the bad joke to die with as much dignity as we can. . .  
  
Which isn't that easy to do, said the Fatman.  
  
And. . . Oh, what's the point anymore? asked Batman wearily. Look, I'm tired, this vignette was supposed to be about that preview before _The Village_ about the next Batman movie, which may be more of a Bruce Wayne movie, and I actually liked that idea but then it got way off track at that weird set of parenthesis, probably because the author is tired as well, and just wanted to post something after a week of vacation, even if it was a half-baked idea, so she wouldn't feel like a life-sucking sloth.  
  
Damn strait, said a bleary eyed Silver Meteor.


End file.
